The Third Reason
by BadJohn
Summary: Young Evangelion pilot Jean Stuart recalls a series of conversations with doctor Gendo Ikari. The memories aren't exactly pleasant. Sometimes, there are doors best left closed, and things best left unheard. It's best to go into this one with a decent knowledge of NGE!


There are many reasons why I became a pilot. There are threefold, but I only knew one reason at first. That reason was that I was good, and compliant.

I won't lie, I enjoy bragging, and if you dislike that quality, I promise that it's only a small part of who I am. I'm not bragging when I say that they chose me because I was what they needed. A fast learner. Duty driven. I didn't accept out of reluctant heroism, or indecisive obedience. From the beginning, when I saw that they wanted me, I set out to prove them correct.

Even outside of an Evangelion, I tried my best to be as strong and brave as I could. I wasn't great at anything, but I was good enough at everything, and above all, I could hold a decent sync ratio. A part of me was convinced I would fail. Success only dared me on even further.

When they first fielded me, I fought hard. I was frightened out of my wits, so I just kept slinging blows as fast and hard as I could when my weapons jammed. The soldiers and scientists said I gave the Angel a massive beating. It was so…VISCERAL. The pain in my knuckles. The sting of blows that bounced off of Unit-14's armor. They believed me to be invincible, and maybe they were right. I won. They may not have seen me weeping in my bathroom, or shaking at the sight of every shadow that passed my room, but having them behind me, cheering me on, made me stronger. I became more positive with them around. They were ecstatic when I stood, defying what they thought to be evil Gods. To me, they were just the enemy.

But our leader grew to notice one more trait that I had hidden. There was one secret agenda that I pressed whenever I had a moment alone with him. I was curious. I wanted to know WHY I was putting my life on the line. I was unsatisfied with beating opponents who had no face. I was increasingly unnerved by the scent of LCL, which seemed surprisingly…familiar.

Most of all, and this remains an unanswered question, I wanted to know why I could feel my EVA's eyes following me, even with Unit-14's silver mask. To this day, I swear I see the brown armor shift to follow my movements. I can feel 14's shoulders shift. I'm fortunate, in that I can't see the EVA's massive, black eyes, but I still know that it, or he, or she, knows I'm there, and wants something from me other than a pilot.

Granted, I'm only a kid. I wanted to believe that there was some evil scientist with a big old mustache who was just out to get us because he could. I wanted to believe that my EVA was a giant robot. A big, complicated sword, who just happened to have bleeding skin beneath the armor. I kept asking the Scientist my questions, and at first, he ignored me.  
After my eleventh inquiry, he glowered at me over his cup of coffee, and his gloved hands, and oddly enough, he said something. I can never remember what he says, but I always get the message. He seemed eager for me to shut the fuck up, but there was something behind those glasses, and beyond the steam of his coffee.

The twelfth time I asked him as a joke. I even purchased a pair of white gloves, and brought my own coffee cup (full of soda, because I'm a dumbass). I glowered at him, and asked him a few questions as he sat at his desk.  
That was when he asked ME a question.

"Did you choose to pilot EVA?"

I know now that he could have barbed me much worse, but that question was a harsh one. I realized in the following days that I had never had a choice in the matter. I realized that I was only fourteen, and grown men and women were relying on me to put my life on the line.

I realized that even if I was a reluctant hero, my reluctance would have been a non-option. Piloting that EVA was my life now, whether I liked it or not.

After reeling for several days, I came to my senses, and decided that I still WANTED to pilot. I still WANTED my answers. He'd slugged me good, but I bounced back.

He must have been impressed by my will, because on my thirteenth inquiry, he began to give me real answers. Answers I don't presume he was meant to give.

He told me that EVA, biologically, were scaled up humans, complete with feelings and sentience; that I was piloting a massive, living creature. I already knew that on some level, due to 14's flowing blood, and the way it watched me, but he told me something else.

He told me 14 didn't have a choice, because it had limitless power. He took off my glasses, and looked me in the eye, and lectured me on the nature of power versus responsibility. As 14's pilot, I indeed had more physical power than most human beings on the planet. Because of that, my hones was not to decide. 14 and I were both shackled into our responsibility. The only difference was that 14 never had a chance to be anything else.

That was why I was selected to be a Pilot. Because they knew my bravado, and my need to please and meet expectations, made it clear that I could never decide on my own that it wasn't the life I wanted.

I walked away from that without breaking, like last time. I resolved to speak with him again, only the next time, I was coming out of the hospital. After a sound defeat by a Serpentine Angel, one of the other Children had to bail me out, and carry me back to NERV. Unit 14 was in bad shape, and I would be off of the battlefield.

When I asked my next question, he fed me a volley of the most insidious, damaging lies I'd ever heard. It pains me to think back to the things he said, but afterwards, he made it clear that they were untruths. I swear I saw him smile as he walked away from me. He was issuing me a personal punishment for failing in battle.

At that moment, it was pretty clear that this trial was not a fatherly teaching. Whether or not we were on the same team, the Scientist did NOT have my best interests at heart. He was just as pleased fucking with me as he was watching me succeed. I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried over what the Scientist said. He's an adult, and a genius. A mere section of his brain can hold ALL of my processing power. He could have likely reduced me to suicide in four minutes.

The final time I asked him a question, he told me, man to man, that there were three reasons why I was selected. The first was that I was good enough, and the second was that I never had a choice in the matter.

He asked me if I wanted to know the third reason. I flatly refused. He even baited me on further, setting his coffee cup aside. That sound had grown to haunt me. The sound of ceramic sliding against a table, or clopping down like a judge's gavel.

The Scientist asked me if I wanted to know why the LCL smelled so familiar. He asked me if I wanted to know why I could hear voices when synchronizing with the EVA. With some of my most hated emotion, reluctance, I refused. It wasn't reluctant martyrdom, it was pretty much just petulant, fearful refusal. Like the first time you got a needle stuck in your arm as a kid, multiplied by a few degrees of magnitude.

He seemed disappointed, so I'm absolutely certain I made the right choice for now. I have not spoken with him directly since, but I feel him watching me. I'm fairly sure that sooner or later, he's going to tell me the truth. He intends to tell me the third reason whether or not I'm better off ignorant, but I think he's going to wait until it can benefit him in some way. Maybe one day I'll piss him off, and he'll decide to terminate me psychologically. Maybe he'll want me to be loyal to him alone, and the knowledge he holds behind those sunglasses will fully assimilate me. Maybe I'll just stop being useful, and he's put it on his bucket-list to tell SOMEONE what he has to say.

Maybe it's just a hidden pass-code to melt my brain with some cartoonish device.

That Scientist did tell me one final thing, before our final chat ended.

"There are doors you have yet to open, and windows you aren't strong enough to reach up and look through, I suppose. Going forward blindly is your decision?"

I nodded my head, but he dared me on. "I can tell you everything you want to know. Things that even the adults aren't privy too. I can tell you exactly why you fight." When I refused a second time, he simply sighed, and took off his glasses. His smile was sincere; jarringly so.

"Unit 14 loves you very much, Jean. Take good care of her."

So, I fight Angels and pilot Unit 14. No matter what he says, it's my choice. I worked for it, and earned it, whether or not he put me on rails. The Angels kill people, and I can use my Evangelion to thwart them.

But, as a warning to anyone who reads this, stay the away from Gendo. He knows you want to ask, he knows what you don't want to know, and he knows the questions that you haven't thought to ask yourself.

Whatever you want to know from him, it isn't worth it.


End file.
